Inokori Sensei
by nekoftal
Summary: A Fairy Tail version of Inokori Sensei. This takes place after Tenroujima I recommend you listen to the song before reading this. AU, one-shot. Not StingxGray.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! It's me! I'm writing this cause the idea wouldn't go away and it's really bothering me. I hope you enjoy! The characters may be a little off so sorry in advance!**

Through the clear pane of Plexiglas, there was a nice sunny sky, an emerald field, and plenty of multicolored flowers to complete the landscape. Tall, leafy trees stood tall in proud in the morning sun, their strong, bark-covered arms shading the multiple dull gray benches scattered in the schoolyard. It was wrong, why was the sky so cheerful? Sting glared at the teacher. How he longed to be out in the sun, soaking up the warm rays like a sponge, yet, against his wishes, he was here, in class, with the most obnoxious and arrogant teacher in all the world. Sting glared at the classroom from his seat. The teacher was teaching English, writing the foreign letters on the board with steady, even handwriting. Sting glared. He was very familiar with this particular teacher. He had seen the midnight blue hair that contrasted with his own sunshine hair more times than he wanted to see it in his lifetime. The teacher's soulless black eyes were a constant component of Sting's nightmares. Like black and white, Sting and his teacher Gray were constant opposites, like the sun and the moon, like the day and night.

Sting sat in his chair, blue eyes shining with a hidden glint of anger, resentfulness in his ocean blue eyes. On the outside, he looked like a reflection of the blue sky lazily drifting outside the classroom window, calm and not at all caring what his sensei was saying. Yet, internally, he was angry like a whirlpool in the sea. Sitting in his cold, cold seat all alone, Sting watched dully as the hours dragged by. The seconds seemed to tick by endlessly as Sting sat in his cold, cold seat listlessly waiting for class to end. The rhythmic beat of the clock lulled Sting into a waking sleep, his blue eyes no longer quite so clear, instead clouded by tiredness and apathy. Yet, in some weird way, the murderous glint still shone behind sheen of dullness. Sting watched as the hands raced at a snail's pace on the blank background of the clock. The hands ticked, and one by one, reached elven fifty nine. Gray-sensei had set the stubby piece of white chalk down. Sting watched the powder dissipate off the chalk in a cloud as it hit the side of the blackboard. His eyes watched as the chalk bounces on the ground, once, twice, thrice, before finally lying still. Raising his dead blue eyes, Sting stared Gray in the face, waiting for the phrase.

 _Now class, Do you like your teacher or not?_

Always, always, it was the same. Every day. Gray-sensei, like every other day, had asked the question. Just like any other day, Gray-sensei gripped the side of the dark, wooden podium and waited for an answer. And like always, once again, the rest of the class answered without doubt.

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah._

Like a well-oiled machine, Gray-sensei's black eyes once again landed on Sting. It seemed that today would be just like any other day, Sting sighed internally. Once again, it started. It felt as if they were always going through this routine. Always, they would be trapped in this cycle of vengeance. Gray-sensei looked straight at Sting and smirked. Of course, he would say just what he always said, despite the twinge in his heart.

 _Anybody holding back or didn't nod, I'll see you when class is done._

Sting gave only the slightest response to having heard the unsaid detention after class. Had the receiver of his response been anyone other than Gray-sensei, they would have missed the slight indication that Sting rose to the challenge. The slight hunching of his shoulders and the return of clarity to his blue eyes were met as a direct challenge by Gray-sensei. Once, Sting knew, that he'd have been far more vocal, far more violent, far more responsive, but this … routine had worn him down, layer by layer. However, Sting knew, he would never, never disregard Gray's taunts.

Sting waited until the bell rang. The bell that had once been his only hope of escaping the blank prison of the bare classroom was now what condemned him to the scrutiny of angry black eyes. No, they weren't black; they were simply devoid of color and devoid of life, the eyes of a carefully constructed doll. Sting waited as the kids filed out in groups that seemed colorless and uniform to his eyes. He watched and waited as his fellow classmates that had once been close friends left him to deal with the emotionless eyes and the delicately arrogant voice of his teacher. Sting watched as his classmates left, group by group, until only he was left within the sterile walls of the classroom. The maze of desks and the masked suppression of the snow white walls kept him in. Forced him to deal with the monster who had abandoned the child he once thought of as a little brother.

Holding his breath, Sting closed his eyes and listened to his teacher's footsteps draw ever closer. **Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump**. He listened as the monster got closer and closer until Sting could almost feel his oppressive presence. Standing up abruptly, Sting drew himself up and narrowed his eyes at the teacher. Two lifeless eyes stared back at him.

"Would you care to explain your actions in class, Mister Eucliffe? " Gray-sensei asked.

Sting harrumphed, looking straight into Gray's eyes and not backing down.

"Answer me, . Your actions were not in the least respectful, nor were they reasonable. You have been called after class many times for this reason. If this continues, you will be suspended, or at worse expelled from this school."

Sting felt the anger rising in him, like magma in a volcano. And it exploded. The anger, the resentfulness came out into familiar words that Sting had used many times before.

" _You think that I'd really care, are you blind?_

 _Go on, keep glaring like I'm just a brat, fine!_

 _You versus me, we don't match up at all_

 _Cause I'm a grown man, at least…some might call_

 _All of this petty talk, don't mess around with me_

 _I'm not kid so just cut it out! It's not like I'm three_

" _You couldn't handle this" You said time and again_

 _Well your loss, 'cause I win…hah?_

As if to emphasize his point, Sting took out from his pocket a worn rubix cube and slammed it onto the shaky desk, all while glaring at his teacher. The hate in the air was nearly palpable, almost cuttable using a knife. Shoving the rattling desk towards his teacher, Sting stalked off to join his friends in the sun. A part him still raged, knowing that all this would happen over and over all the way until he was out of school.

Once again, Sting sat in class after the lunch break. His foot tapping to the flowing of time, Sting let his mind drift off once again. In his day dreams, he saw a taller figure with bright pink hair, and a never ending smile, white scarf reflecting a nonexistent light in the sky. He saw and older brother and a dear friend. Next to the teen, he saw a darker haired teen with a cocky smirk and dark, dark blue hair and dark eyes. He looked so much like Gray sensei, but his eyes conveyed an entirely different feeling. Sting was pulled deeper and deeper into the happy dream, a smile lighting his features as he watched his older brothers talk and laugh and play and smile and joke and simply be friends. It wasn't until he dreamed that Sting had realized just how lonely he had become.

As the sun began to set, Sting snapped out and was once again pulled into the cold reality. Glancing up to the ever accurate clock, Sting noted that it was almost time for school to end. It was almost time for the sensei's favorite words to once again ring around the room, for the cursed routine to start again. Sting stared and stared and stared until only one minute remained. Once again, Gray opened his mouth. Sting knew the words before the sound came out. Silently repeating them as Gray began, Sting let a tired smirk grace his features before quickly schooling his feature back to the bored mask they were before.

 _Now class, do you like your teacher or not?_

The class responded in a rehearsed answer. In a monotone, synchronized voice, the rest of the class chanted their traditional answer.

 _Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah._

Without looking, Gray had already known just whose voice was missing in the chorus of sounds that answered his age old questions. Keeping his fragile mask before his face, Gray looked straight to Sting, zooming into Sting's seemingly nonchalant face. And like always Gray repeated his memorized lines, almost as if he was a machine, a heartless, soulless robot.

 _Anybody holding back or didn't nod, I'll see around when class is done._

Gray watched as Sting tensed, the turbulent blue eyes narrowly and glaring at him. Internally, Gray had hoped that the routine would just stop, but it seemed as if Sting was doing the same as every other day.

 **Ding. Dong. Ding. Dong.** The old school clock chimed loudly twice, reverberating in the classroom and signaling the end of the day. Gray watched as the students stood up, group by group, discussing their weekend plans. Gray watched as the friendship bond within the classmates shone strong and bright even as the day waned. Gray watched as the students started to leave, except one with blue, blue eyes that remained unmoving in his seat. Slowly, Gray walked over, feet landing on the ground with a resounding thump each time he stepped forward. The mop of sunshine hair that waited seemed dull and bored like the hair of a puppet. Closer and closer he walked until he was directly in front of Sting.

"What were you doing in class, ? Did you think that I wouldn't notice your unresponsiveness?"

Sting gave no indication that he had seen Gray, much less have heard Gray's demand. Dark eyes sharpened and bored into the lazy blue. Trying again, Gray asked the same, old question as always.

" , I demand an answer, what did you think you were doing?"

As if on cue, Sting's eyes turned a hard shade of ice as he jumped up. Scrunching up Gray's shirt, Sting pulled Gray down as if to stare him down.

 _Hey sir, I hate you, ya know?_

 _Friends wouldn't do this or make me feel so alone_

 _Alright! Unanimous then, they all agree so take a win!_

 _Hey sir, you think this is right?_

 _Look at this homework I've let all just slip by_

 _Is it bad if I wanted your hand? To help me like you did back then?_

Pushing Sting's hand off his clothes, Gray calmly dusted and straightened his shirt as the class watched. Tens of eyes were now watching their verbal tennis match with the scrutiny of owls. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the watchful eyes Gray cleared his throat.

"Now, , you may still be a child, but I refuse to baby you. If you don't understand, perhaps you should be sent to a lower level class."

Sting once again sprang up as though propelled by some strange force. His blue eyes were burning with a hidden satisfaction. Gray already knew the next word. He had heard them so many times during the years that at times he could hear Sting in his dreams. The days that they spent at school were like clockwork, every day was the same. Nothing ever changed. They were forever stuck in a dark, dizzying world of hateful words. They were stuck in a world of nightmares, of solitude. Gray silently scrolled through the words engraved in his head as Sting began his rehearsed tirade, a tired, bitter edge lacing his words.

 _Call me a kid all want but you know_

 _You versus me, we got some things the same though_

 _Falling in love, even I've felt it grow_

 _Cause I'm mature now…at least, I think so_

 _Give up the tough guy act, I know you're not like that_

 _I see right through all your poker faces_

 _So now I'm all grown and – don't have to hold my hand_

 _Step away, got it yet? Hah?_

" . That is hardly the appropriate tone to be using when talking to a teacher or an elder. Everyone in this room respects me as a teacher, so it should be natural that you do so as well. That's all you need to do, nothing more and nothing less." Gray replied in a monotone voice.

As sting listened, he only grew more and more angry. How could he? How did he just forget everything? Did everyone truly respect Gray, or was it all just an act? The buried anger rose to the surface as Sting did something unprecedented. Seeing only red, sting bit out in the most scathing tone he could, the words that had been swirling in his head and weighing him down like a boulder. Sting, on impulse, dragged Gray to his podium and glared at the students with an authoritarian aura.

 _Now, class do you like your teacher or not?_

Against all his predictions, the class's opinion rang out, high and clear. The whitewashed walls of the classroom only serving to resonate the response and engrave the words into his mind.

 _Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah._

The words rang over and over in his mind. So it really was like that, wasn't it? Over and over the words played in his head. It almost seemed as though the words were trying to mock him. Was that fair? His classmates were truly idiots. Louder than ever, Sting voiced his opinion again.

 _I could never just agree or go along_

 _If it's just an act to show them_

 _Hey sir, I hate you, ya know?_

 _Friends wouldn't do this or make me feel so alone_

 _Alright! Unanimous then, they all agree so take a win!_

 _Hey sir, you think this is right?_

 _Look at this homework I've let all just slip by_

 _Is it bad if I wanted your hand? To help me like you did back then?_

Seeing as his job was done, Sting stalked out of the classroom, not noticing his sensei's shocked gaze or the slight openness of his lips. Following in groups, the students left, all following Sting's leadership. Gray could only watch as the light left his classroom and the walls turned black. Time had really changed things. The classroom that had once been filled with light, was now an oppressive shade of deep black. Once, it would have been him heading out the doors. Gray could still see it. His friends, his classmates, his teachers, even his enemies. He could see himself and a tall spiky, pink- no salmon haired boy walking side by side having a pointless argument. He could see the ditsy blond, and the proud red head, and the tiny blue headed bookworm following after him. Gray could see the numerous groups after them and the light that had shone around all of them like a beautiful halo. He saw his friends and their laughs, their smiles, and their lively eyes. Blinking his eyes, Gray realized that it had not been himself that he had seen, but instead, it had been Sting. Sting and a tall dark-haired boy walked side by side having a laugh. He saw an air headed pinkette, and a calm pale haired girl, and the tiny blond boy that was already handsome. He saw the happiness that emanated from around them and the life that glowed in their eyes.

 _Everybody always hanging 'round all the time_

 _Everybody smiling as you joke from behind_

 _Finally it hit me that I'm watching go by, the things that once were mine_

 _Everybody always hanging 'round all the time_

 _All my favorite things were piling up in my mind_

 _Though you can never know how special they are_

 _Until you feel them slipping by._

Slowly, Gray felt himself slipping into a daydream. Water rushed in, choking him and leaving him to struggler helplessly. Flailing and shaking, he struggled to embrace the hand that only drifted farther and farther. Gray tried, with all his might to reach those hands, to drag them up, to save his friend that was drowning. Yet, for all his struggles, Gray could only watch as his friend fell further and further into the inky darkness of the water that had been one a glistening haven for his family. He watched as his dearest friend drowned in the place that was supposed to be their home, the place that was supposed to show them who was the best, the place that was supposed to protect them. Yet, the deep water felt so much like the beast that threatened their safety and their family. This water was the same, so cold and apathetic, so dark and blue. And like that same beast, this water had taken his friend from him. Reaching out again and again to save the ever diminishing body, Gray's vision turned dark and he drifted into darkness.

When the darkness cleared, he was in a blindingly white room that smelled of fear and death. Gray knew, even without looking at the pale gray complexion of his salmon-haired friend laying on the bed, that this room was the end. The walls that were so whit, were so heavy and so dark. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, yet he didn't make a move. No, he was too afraid that if he moved, his friend would disappear forever.

Looking back for a final triumphant sneer, Sting turned his head back ward. Just as the sneer graced his features, Sting saw the shaking of Gray's body and the silent tears that flowed out of his eyes. He saw the hand that unconsciously clenched the desk for support. Sting saw the eyes that had once seen pink-no salmon. Sting saw the figure of a grieving man. He saw the man that had left behind his mask and simply let time run. He saw the broken visage of a teacher. Most importantly, he saw grief of a friend, a dear older brother, a tutor.

The next day seemed exactly the same. Through the clear pane of Plexiglas, there was a nice sunny sky, an emerald field, and plenty of multicolored flowers to complete the landscape. Tall, leafy trees stood tall in proud in the morning sun, their strong, bark-covered arms shading the multiple dull gray benches scattered in the schoolyard. Yet, Sting wasn't glaring, instead, he was listening. Listening for the broken quiver in his sensei's voice. Listening for the hint of a mask. Listening for the promise that his sensei could change. He listened to the class, paying attention to even the smallest details.

 _Now class, do you like your teacher or not?_

 _(Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)_

 _Always "I" before "E", except after "C"_

 _(Always "I" before "E", except after "C")_

Sting listened as Gray talked, giving nearly the same lesson as he did the day before. The hours raced by. Black flashes against the white background and the scratching of chalk on the whiteboard signaled the passing of the hours. The clock raced round in round in a centripetal motion, a dizzying spiral. The white classroom and the bored face of his peers faded into a nondescript shade of gray as Sting listened for any hint of the friend he had known long ago. As the clock began to slow, Gray-sensei ended with his signature question. With the slightest twing of boredom, Gray asked the same question, once again.

 _Now then, do you all like my classes or not?_

The same response appeared again. Sting resiliently clamped his mouth shut and froze in place, like always. The chorus started and left without him.

 _Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah._

Like always, Gray's sad black eyes turned and focused on Sting. Like always Gray gave an unnoticeable glare before opening his mouth to spit out the hated phrase. Like always, Gray was going to threaten a detention. Like always, Gray was tired, and sad, and simply exhausted. Like always, he did not expect any resistance or interruption.

 _Anybody holding back or didn't nod_

 _That would leave just me, am I wrong?_

Sting interrupted with his blue eyes much kinder, like a lake. The anger, the bitterness, and the resentfulness had gone, leaving only the innocence of a child. A smile graced his features as Sting stood up and countered Gray's clock like words. He smiled as gray's face morphed into that of shock. For an eternity, they froze, finally breaking the traditional routine. Finally tumbling out of the comfortable routine they had settled into. And as if to push them back in, Gray's face morphed into that of anger. Who gave Sting the right to talk back to him? Why did he insist on being arrogant and inconsiderate every day. Taking out the lunch detention book, Gray scowled. He flipped open the book and saw the records of Sting every day. He saw the rebukes that Sting always managed to make, the small glares that challenged him. Shaking the book open, he waved it at Sting as if to show Sting that he was just a student to him. And all students were punished the same way.

 _On and on, a thousand years gone_

 _Meeting and leaving us at every day's dawn_

 _Give it up and get back in line, you could try one more time_

Finishing his tirade, Gray mentally went through his mind and acted out all the scenes of the lunch detention. He saw the old, dirty rubix cube being slammed on the table, the empty classroom, and Sting's furious eyes. He expected everything to go back to the routine, to go back to a predictable schedule.

 **Ding, Dong.**

This time, even as the students were leaving, Sting sprang up and knocked the detention book out of Gray's hand. As the book flew away, Gray felt his eyes widen and his mind froze in fear and shock. Everything was still as the book fell to the floor on its edge and bounced once, twice, and again before lying still. Sting's angry huffs resounded in the room and Gray knew he was going to receive the lesson of a lifetime. A lesson from his best friend's admirer and his once little brother.

 _Hey sir, you hate me or what?_

 _Acting like we're just some strangers at school, enough!_

 _Alright! I do matter then, and I'm the vote you need to win_

 _Hey sir, remember the days?_

 _All that inside you's still breaking, but you can change_

 _Solving now, you've got me on your side_

 _You're home again this time_

 _And we can laugh and grin_

 _Just like we did always back then_

And with a smile, Sting embraced his brother, convinced that there was a chance that things could finally be right once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I neither own the song nor do I own the translated lyrics. I also don't own fairy tail. I figured that I should include this.**

Basically what happens in this AU is that Acnologia almost kills Natsu and everyone is blown into the ocean. Gray tries to save Natsu, but can't reach him and almost drowns. Later, when he is awake again, he receives notice that Natsu and many of his comrades had died leaving him alone. Sting was Natsu's pseudo-brother and when Natsu died, he was crushed. He keeps going to school and Gray starts teaching him. Gray ignores him and doesn't help because he feels guilty for not saving Natsu and rejects everyone who was connected to Natsu. Sting grows to resent Gray and they develop a mutually hateful relationship. At the end, their relationship is repaired and Gray begins to help and look after Sting again.


End file.
